GRAPHIC NON-FICTION, LUKE HEALY: EXTRACT FROM 'AMERICANA (AND THE ACT OF GETTING OVER IT)', 2019)

CONTEXT

This extract is from an illustrated travel memoir in graphic novel format by Irish artist Luke Healy. It chronicles his attempt to walk the Pacific Crest Trail (or PCT), a hike of over 2660 miles that goes to the Mexican border to the Canadian border with North America.

MODE, AUDIENCE & PURPOSE

MODE:

• The text is a multimodal narrative, originally from a graphic novel memoir, combining visual and written storytelling.

• Linguistically, it operates in a hybrid mode:

  • Autobiographical prose → reflective passages: “my sense of feeling unmoored only grew more powerful”

  • Travel writing → descriptive landscape: “Mt. Shasta is a bizarre place”

  • Conversational dialogue → realism and immediacy: “Hey, um. Do you know how many crystal shops…”

• It also shifts between:

  • Narration (past tense) for reflection

  • Present tense for immediacy during the hike: “I am hiking through a Disney movie”

AUDIENCE:

• A general adult readership, particularly:

  • Readers interested in travel writing / adventure narratives

  • Those engaged with millennial experiences (e.g. “Generation Emigration”)

  • Readers of literary/graphic memoirs

• More specifically:

  • People familiar with economic migration or instability

  • A Western/Anglophone audience, given references to Ireland, the USA, and cultural figures

• The accessible, conversational style (“Well well well, look who caught up”) broadens appeal beyond academic readers.

PURPOSE:

1. To recount personal experience (primary purpose)

• It documents the writer’s journey on the PCT and his life context.

• Example: “I applied for over one hundred jobs… I got one interview.”

2. To explore identity and belonging

• The writer examines displacement and emotional instability:
  “Why couldn’t I just be happy there?”

3. To comment on social and economic issues

• Critique of:

  • Irish emigration

  • Economic recession

• Example: “Youth unemployment soared above twenty per cent.”

4. To reflect on emotional attachment and loss

• Especially through symbolism (e.g. butterfly):
  “I clutch and cling so tight as to crush.”

5. To challenge ideals (e.g. “American dream”)

• Reinforced by the epigraph and narrative outcome.

Chapter 5: Northern California (Part II) and Oregon

"The American dream is a crock. Epigraph Stop wanting everything. Everyone should wear jeans and have three T-shirts, eat rice and beans." -Bill Hicks

Lexis:

• Colloquial and blunt: “a crock” undermines the idealised “American dream.”

• Imperatives: “Stop wanting everything” promote anti-consumerist values.

• Semantic field of simplicity: “jeans… three T-shirts… rice and beans.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Simple declaratives and imperatives → authoritative tone.

• Morphologically basic vocabulary reinforces minimalism.

Discourse:

• Functions as an epigraph, framing the chapter’s critique of capitalism and excess.

• Establishes ideological tension between aspiration and rejection.

Linguistic Devices:

• Tricolon: “jeans… three T-shirts… rice and beans” emphasises reduction.

• Contrast between “dream” and “crock” creates irony.

It didn't help that I knew almost nobody my own age in Ireland by the time I'd moved back from the USA. They'd all left for other countries. Some were in the USA, some in the UK, Australia, France, Japan... "Generation Emigration" the newspapers called us. Ireland, hit hard by the 2008 global financial crisis, had acquired its very own lost generation. People mostly left to find work, which was difficult to come by in Dublin. Youth unemployment soared above twenty per cent. Most, simply had no choice but to leave. to met somhedeclar I applied for over one hundred jobs between my move back the decak Ireland and my departure for the PCT. I got one interview. They went with someone else. Employers were overrun with qualified applicants. One cinema told me that I was underqualified to sell tickets and fill buckets of popcorn - compared to the competition at least. Every single one of my school friends now lived outside of Ireland. I couldn't blame anyone for leaving. I'd made the same choice myself two years earlier, when I'd moved to the US for school. 

Lexis:

• Semantic field of migration: “left… countries… emigration… lost generation.”

• Economic lexis: “financial crisis… unemployment… jobs.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Long compound sentences mirror overwhelming circumstances.

• Passive constructions: “was difficult to come by” obscure agency.

• Quantifiers: “over one hundred jobs… one interview.”

Discourse:

• Personal narrative merges with socio-economic commentary.

• Builds collective identity: “Generation Emigration.”

Linguistic Devices:

• Statistics: “twenty per cent” adds realism.

• Listing of countries → global diaspora.

• Irony: “underqualified to sell tickets” highlights absurdity.

Still, my sense of feeling unmoored only grew more powerful the longer I remained in Ireland. I lived with my parents in suburban Dublin. I took freelance jobs from American employers, and managed to scrape by financially. This presented its own challenges, but I tried not to complain. I was privileged enough to have parents who could afford to let their child live with them through his practical unemployment. Privately, I despaired. I started to resent my attitudes about Ireland. Why couldn't I just be happy there? Was it so different to White River Junction?

Lexis:

• Metaphor of instability: “unmoored.”

• Financial struggle: “scrape by.”

• Emotional lexis: “despaired… resent.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• First-person declaratives emphasise introspection.

• Rhetorical questions: “Why couldn’t I just be happy?”

Discourse:

• Shift from external socioeconomics to internal conflict.

• Juxtaposition of privilege vs dissatisfaction.

Linguistic Devices:

• Metaphor: “unmoored” suggests lack of belonging.

• Contrast between “privileged” and “despaired.”

"There are more Irish living outside of Ireland than there are living inside of it," my dad repeated often while I was growing up. We learned about emigration in history class from the time we were children. It's no coincidence that one of the only historical Irish events that Americans know about is the Irish potato famine, the butt of many jokes. It was the Great Famine that drove so many to leave, starved from their homeland. A million died, a million left. The population still hasn't recovered, over a century later.

Lexis:

• Repetition of “living” highlights displacement.

• Historical lexis: “potato famine… starved… died.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Direct speech personalises generational narrative.

• Short declaratives: “A million died, a million left.”

Discourse:

• Connects personal identity to national history.

• Establishes cyclical emigration.

Linguistic Devices:

• Parallelism: “A million died, a million left.”

• Hyperbole-like statistic heightens tragedy.

In the books and plays we studied, this preoccupation with emigration was ever present. Despite what the posters for the Dublin literary festival would have you believe; James Joyce, Oscar Wilde and Elizabeth Bowen were not great lovers of the city, and left in turn for London or Paris.

Lexis:

• Literary register: “books and plays… literary festival.”

• Evaluative phrase: “would have you believe.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Complex sentence structure reflects critical tone.

• Proper nouns emphasise cultural authority.

Discourse:

• Challenges romanticised nationalism.

• Aligns narrator with tradition of departure.

Linguistic Devices:

• Irony: celebrated writers “were not great lovers.”

• Contrast between image and reality.

In the '50s, when my grandfather and his family left, it was common for emigrants to never see their families again. They would have their own "American Wakes" on the night before their departure. A big party; a funeral for their Irish life. A chance to see everyone they love, and mourn for all of the funerals they'd miss. A weekend of visiting everyone, in their own homes, as close to your departure as possible. It was a process with Reflects the ye which I became quite familiar.

Lexis:

• Semantic field of death: “funeral… mourn… wakes.”

• Emotional lexis: “love… miss.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Fragmented sentences: “A big party; a funeral…” reflect duality.

• Repetition of structure builds rhythm.

Discourse:

• Explores ritual as cultural coping mechanism.

• Personal connection: “I became quite familiar.”

Linguistic Devices:

• Oxymoron: “party” vs “funeral.”

• Listing of activities intensifies emotional weight.

The legacy of mass emigration still lives on in modern day Ireland. The sad tradition of American Wakes was revived in the years following the 2008 global financial crisis. Despite the ease of air travel, funerals are still missed, and weddings, and new babies. And often, those that leave know that they will never live in Ireland again.

Lexis:

• Continuity: “legacy… still lives on.”

• Loss: “missed… never live… again.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Present tense → ongoing issue.

• Polysyndeton: “funerals… weddings… new babies.”

Discourse:

• Links past to present → cyclical suffering.

Linguistic Devices:

• List of life events emphasises emotional cost.

• Finality in “never” underscores permanence.

Mt. Shasta is a bizarre place, rammed with New Age, holistic, spiritualist shops. They dot every street, selling crystals and wands and other arcane paraphernalia. The mountain itself soars high above the town, prominent, amongst the lower, non-mountainous landscape. Even though Mt. Dominance over landscape Whitney is taller, Mt. Shasta looks much bigger, not surrounded by the hulking majesty of the High Sierras.

Lexis:

• Semantic field of spirituality: “New Age… crystals… arcane.”

• Evaluative adjective: “bizarre.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Descriptive, extended sentences.

• Comparative structure: “even though… taller.”

Discourse:

• Shift to travel narrative.

• External environment contrasts with internal reflection.

Linguistic Devices:

• Imagery: visual description of landscape.

• Juxtaposition: spiritual shops vs natural mountain.

After a little while, I break away from Griz, Craftsman and crew, going to find the local campsite. We bump fists, like hikers do. My unbroken footpath is now broken. Purists would scoff. I can't now say that I've walked from Mexico to Canada, unless I include a disclaimer about a hundred-mile hole somewhere in Northern California.

Lexis:

• Community lexis: “crew… hikers.”

• Judgment: “purists would scoff.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Declarative statements assert independence.

• Conditional clause: “unless I include…”

Discourse:

• Theme of authenticity vs practicality.

Linguistic Devices:

• Metaphor: “unbroken footpath is now broken.”

• Colloquialism: “scoff” adds realism.

I hadn't wanted to skip. When I'd been stuck in Mammoth, I'd considered skipping, to catch back up with the remainder of Mile 55, but the desire to hike every inch of the trail had kept me on track. Now, I don't care. Not even a little. I say it defiantly to myself, as though affirming my own point of view. I'm walking from Mexico to Canada. If somebody wants to take issue with that, let them walk thirteen hundred miles through snow and desert to tell me.

Lexis:

• Determination: “defiantly… don’t care.”

• Physical challenge: “snow and desert.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Short sentences convey decisiveness.

• Direct address: “let them walk…”

Discourse:

• Assertion of identity and self-validation.

Linguistic Devices:

• Hyperbole: “thirteen hundred miles.”

• Defiant tone via imperative challenge.

Writer: I'll take these, please.

Seller: Absolutely. No problem, brother:

Writer: Hey, um. Do you know how many crystal shops are in this town?

Seller: Let me see... one, two... three... He stops counting after ten..

Lexis:

• Informal register: “Hey, um.”

• Semantic field of commerce.

Grammar & Morphology:

• Dialogue format → conversational realism.

• Ellipsis: “one, two… three…”

Discourse:

• Highlights absurdity of environment.

Linguistic Devices:

• Humour: counting beyond ten.

• Ellipsis suggests excess.

My mother answers her phone. She sounds tired. I apologise for waking her, but she tells me that she wasn't asleep. My dad and brother are also awake. They just got back from my grandmother's house. I'd almost forgotten. It stabs at me that I'm not there. I should be there creates Esto i link to Healy I apologise again, feebly, for calling late.

Lexis:

• Emotional lexis: “tired… apologise… stabs.”

• Family vocabulary.

Grammar & Morphology:

• Repetition: “I apologise again.”

• Fragmentation reflects emotional strain.

Discourse:

• Reconnection with home contrasts isolation.

Linguistic Devices:

• Metaphor: “it stabs at me.”

• Distance: “eight thousand kilometres.”

She asks me if I have seen a red butterfly. That a red butterfly and father's death had landed on my aunt's hand right after my grandfather had died. I roll my eyes from the safe distance of eight thousand kilometres.

"I see butterflies on trail every day," I say, hoping not to dismiss hides his feelings her sentimentality too rudely.

Lexis:

• Natural imagery: “butterflies.”

• Emotional restraint: “hoping not to dismiss.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Direct speech softens tone.

• Present tense immediacy.

Discourse:

• Symbolism begins (butterfly ↔ death/spirit).

Linguistic Devices:

• Symbolism of butterfly.

• Irony in dismissing sentiment.

Friends: Bivvy!

Writer: Well well well, look who caught up.

Lexis:

• Informal greeting: “Well well well.”

• Social bonding.

Grammar & Morphology:

• Dialogue fragments.

• Short sentences reflect ease.

Discourse:

• Temporary reconnection.

Linguistic Devices:

• Repetition adds warmth.

We eat together for the first time since Mammoth. I feel my self uncoil We raise a glass. I leave town with Centerfold. And Mile 55 drifts apart again.

Lexis:

• Minimalist: “uncoil… drifts apart.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Sentence fragments → stylistic simplicity.

Discourse:

• Reflects transient relationships.

Linguistic Devices:

• Metaphor: “uncoil” suggests relaxation.

I lose Centerfold on the first day. The next morning, I catch him. Centerfold: We've gotta coordinate better. He passes me out again, and soon I'm left hiking my own bike, once more. -

Lexis:

• Isolation: “left… once more.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Sequential clauses show progression.

Discourse:

• Reinforces solitude theme.

Linguistic Devices:

• Repetition of separation.

The trail runs in a big loop around Mt. Shasta itself, which looms over me as I bike. For all my complaints, the trail is much easier than anything I've seen up until now.

Lexis:

• Spatial lexis: “loop… looms.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Complex descriptive sentence.

Discourse:

• Return to environment focus.

Linguistic Devices:

• Personification: mountain “looms.”

Writer: Hey, deer.

I am hiking through a Disney movie.

Lexis:

• Cultural reference: “Disney movie.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Simple declarative.

Discourse:

• Romanticises nature.

Linguistic Devices:

• Simile/metaphor: hiking “through a Disney movie.”

I breath slowly, and take a moment to regard the butterfly before shooing it away. It flits off a little, before returning, settling on my knee again and again. "You're just eating the salt on my skin," I say to it, like a hope, before falling back into silence and stillness.

Lexis:

• Gentle verbs: “flits… settling.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Present continuous → immediacy.

Discourse:

• Deepening symbolic moment.

Linguistic Devices:

• Personification of butterfly.

• Sensory imagery: “salt on my skin.”

I shoo it away again, but it returns, standing delicately, flexing its wings as it links the salt from my knew. And all I can think of is that stupid phrase. The one you find on pillows and places in cheesy gift shops. "If you love something, let it go. If it returns, it will be yours forever. I never let go. I clutch and cling so tight as to crush. No butterfly would stand a chance. I hold on tight to people, and ideas, and identity, without any faith that they'd return if I let go.

Lexis:

• Emotional intensity: “clutch and cling… crush.”

• Abstract nouns: “identity… faith.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Long, flowing sentence mirrors overthinking.

• First-person confession.

Discourse:

• Central thematic reflection on control vs release.

Linguistic Devices:

• Extended metaphor: butterfly = relationships.

• Allusion: cliché phrase about love.

• Contrast: letting go vs clinging.

I'd chased Mile 55 across hundreds of miles of California desert. I'd spent night W after night applying for jobs and visas. I'd cried over the USA and returned again and again, and what had it got me? m I stay still and let the butterfly eat its fill.

Lexis:

• Effort: “chased… applying… cried.”

• Futility: “what had it got me?”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Rhetorical question.

• Repetition of “I’d.”

Discourse:

• Retrospective evaluation of struggle.

Linguistic Devices:

• List of actions emphasises exhaustion.

• Rhetorical question conveys disillusionment.

I think about my grandad as I hike. I'd cried on the phone but now, out here, I feel so removed. There is no evidence of his death here. No sign anything has changed.

Lexis:

• Emotional detachment: “removed.”

• Absence: “no evidence… no sign.”

Grammar & Morphology:

• Short declaratives.

• Repetition of negation.

Discourse:

• Shift back to grief.

• Concludes with existential reflection.

Linguistic Devices:

• Contrast: past emotion vs present numbness.

• Anaphora: “No… No…”

• Juxtaposition: personal loss vs unchanged world.